Multiiugis Avolo en Talans Accumulator
by Hermonie
Summary: When Harry spends the summer at Ms. Figg's, he discovers his father's pensieve. What happens when he brings it back to school with him? Lies, cursing, deception, loss of faith, and more of what's good, bad and ugly.
1. Prologue to the web that weaves around m...

HTML1DocumentEncodingutf-8AN: Hey guys! I FINISHED IT!!!!!!!!!!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!! I finished the entire story of "Old Family Ties" and this is just the prologue. Feedback please. Oh, and the quote is from A Tale of Two Cities by Dickens. I highly recommend it in leave of new H.P. books. And yes, Harry Potter is the narrator in this, and yes, it's a fifth year story. But I think you'll find it completly unlike whatever you think you know, think you hold true, think it whats bound to happen....   


Old Family Ties  
Prologue  
  
_Ten years after our story starts.....  
_

"It was an age of darkness, it was an age of light. It was an age of genius, it was an age of stupidity. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." It's funny how the mind works, how you can be happy one moment and in darkness the next. But you never know. Maybe there is reason behind the insanity, but I really don't give either way. All I know is this. He's dead. I'm not. He's dead because I'm not. Ironic, don't you think? I really do hate having to tell everyone my story, because it hurts so much. But it's for the best, I suppose. For the good of many. Maybe they'll learn. A lot of people are dead because I'm not. Not just Cedric. I killed my best friend. I killed my mentor. I killed what I loathed. I killed my saving grace. But this story doesn't start or end with me, a wise one once said. And its true. Nothing is ever just ours. Our fates are so intertwined, that it is odd to tell where I start and someone else starts. I'm not their saving grace, she was. I just held him at bay until she realized this. Oh, Fuck it. Let me explain from the beginning. From when I was young.   
  
Now, I'm not going to tell you she was my sister, or she was pretty, or the slimmest, or even the best at quidditich. Because she _was none of those_. She had an aura about her, though, so that you just had to like her, probe into the way her mind worked, into her blood. To find out that little thing about her that could save the world. Save the world, how cliched. But it's true. My world and the others world. The muggles' world. I'll explain later. She was unlike anyone I had ever seen before. Sure, she was English, sure she was 15, sure she was human. But as close as she was to us, she was just as different. And difference is deadly in my world.........  
  
It was a day like any other first day of school. And like every year before me, and many after me, there was a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. My friends and I found nothing unusual in this. The job was jinxed after all. We expected some 30 year old man, with extensive real life experience, and some deadly secret. But for once, we were wrong on all accounts. _He wasn't a he_, he wasn't 30, and there was little real life experience. But, come to think of it, she was deadly.  
_  
Do you have faith in God above just because the bible tells you to?_ Don McClain's American Pie. Good Muggle song if you get the chance to hear it. But that's what this all starts with, ends with, is tied to. Do you believe what you've been told? In a God? In what's Written before you? What you can't control?


	2. A New begining

  
  
Chapter 1

A New Beginning  
  
  
"Harry, why didn't you come and stay with me this summer?" asked a very upset Ron. "I sent you loads of owls asking you to come and stay, and you never did. What's wrong?"   
  
I had just bumped into Ron ten minutes ago, and he was already asking me why I had stayed at the Dursleys' all summer. Truth be told, I really didn't want to stay at the Dursleys', so I didn't. Not even for a day. I went straight to Mrs. Figg's house, and spent the summer there. However, when I told Hermione and Ron this, they looked at me like I had grown an extra head.   
  
"But Harry," Hermione said, in the tone of voice one reserves for the mentally unstable, "Why would you do a thing like that? She's an old muggle, Harry. Why would Dumbledore let you do a thing like that?"  
  
And so it started. I found I'd have to do a lot of answering to explain away my absence that summer, but if anyone would believe me, it would be Hermione. And judging by the goo-goo eyes Ron was shooting at her, Hermione was in the position to make Ron believe whatever she said.  
  
"Because she's not a muggle, guys, she's a squib. Not like Filch--she can do some magic, but only a few well chosen spells that Dumbeldore showed her. Turns out, he put a Fidelius charm on me when I was born, and Dumbledore himself was my secret keeper while I was at the Dursleys'. But Dumbeldore was worried that Voldemort..." Hermione and Ron cringed "...was powerful enough to break the spell. So he sent me to a witch, someone with magic to help protect me."  
  
"Harry, my mum said you could come and visit. My whole family would have helped you!"  
  
"Ron, don't you see? If he broke the spell, he would come after your family. I'm not having anyone else I know die because of me..." Harry's face went blank for a few moments. It was apparent that Cedric's death still haunted him. After a few sniffles, Harry pressed on. "Mrs. Figgs volunteered. No one knows she has any magic at all, except me, Dumbledore, and now you two."  
  
It was a major blow, no matter how you put it. The trio sat quietly for most of the train journey. It was an eerie silence, the kind where you know everyone is thinking and wants to speak up, but no one wanted to speak up first. After a while, it was too much for me.   
  
"YOU GUYS!!!!! I'm not about to die here, just let it go. Okay? You're all going to be fine, so long as Dumbeldore is alive to protect us. Okay?"  
  
My response was a few "Muhums," said more out of habit than with any true meaning. What were you trying to say in this last sentence? I tried to correct it, but I might have gotten the meaning wrong. I slumped back into my chair. This was going to be a long year.  
  
AN: Sorry for the wait you guys, I was on holiday at my weekend house, and it doesn't have a computer yet. Neway, please R and R. Thank a bunch!   
AN2: Yes, I'm a H/H shipper, but I'm writing this according to the books, not my views.   
  



	3. Begin to dream another's dream

AN: SORRY FOR THE WAIT, BUT STUFF HAS HAPPENED LATELY.  
  
Disclaimer: nutin is mine, everything is J.K.Rowling's.  
  
Chapter 2  
Begin to Dream another's Dream  
  
  
My head slumped to the side and I feel asleep to the "click click" of the train tracks. I don't think Hermione or Ron noticed though. Hermione was reading (of course) and Ron was doing homework he hadn't done during the summer (Divination). I dreamt about the summer, and Mrs. Figg...  
  
"And this, Harry," she said, holding up an old basin, "Is your father's pensive." I looked into the swirling contents and thought about whether or not I should go in. Did I really want to get inside my Dad's mind? Would he really want me seeing his memories? I could tell Mrs. Figg knew what I was thinking, as she took one look at my furrowed brow and said "Go in." With that, I lowered my nose inside and waited for the telltale feeling below my navel. I felt it and fell face forward into the basin's depths...  
  
"Harry!" I awoke from my trance and looked around. Hermione was standing over me in her Hogwarts robes. Ron was dressed too, and blushing at Hermione for some reason. "Harry, we're at school! Hurry up and put your robes on!"   
  
I threw them over my head and grabbed my wand and hat as I headed out the door. Half-way down the train corridor, however, I ran back and checked one more time for the pensieve that was in my trunk. After what I saw this summer, I would need it.   
  
Once I saw that it was safely tucked away, I ran up the corridor to Ron and Hermione. That's a perk of fame, people part the masses for you. After I caught up with Ron, I pulled him away from Hermione and said " Ron! Your redder than your hair! what's wrong!"  
  
"Oh! Nutin... Nothing Harry...." But Ron's eyes still had not left Hermione's.. posterior.  
  
"Ron!" I hissed, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice. "Since when do you have such a thing for Hermione?"  
  
"I do not!" he shouted, going on the defensive at once, planting his fists on his waist "She just said something to me..."  
  
"Ron..." I said with a sly look in my eye, "what did Hermione say?"  
  
"Tell you later," he grumbled as we both stepped off the train and raced up to Hermione.  
  
I heard Hagrid yell, "First Years Over Here!" and was glad to see that whatever Dumbledore had told him to do was safe enough so that he was still alive. Hopefully Snape would still be gone, though. Needless to say, Hagrid's redundant words a comfort, and hell knows there wasn't a lot _of that_ that year.  
  
  



	4. Of Poverty, aristocracy, and normality

AN: I've decided to post in very short chapter, every 2 or 3 days, so everyone remembers what has happened and nobody loses interest (that is, if I have your interest). Mind you, that's going to make about 45 chapter in this story, but One every 3 days means it won't take that long. Mind you, as the plot thickens I'm going to have to make longer chapters. 

Of Poverty, aristocracy, and normality

"Can I sit in your carriage?" asked the round faced Nevil. The carriages still smelled of hay, mind you. And I was all for getting whoever or whatever in that carriage that could take my mind of the fact. Ron, however, whose eyes still had not left Hermione, seemed to want otherwise. 

"Fine" he said sadly

"Ron, I need to talk to you" I said "When we get to school. Don't think your going to skive your way out of this one!"

Hermione sat in the back, looking pleasantly bewildered. "What are you two hiding? You can tell me!"

"No we Can't!" We both shouted at once. Hermione looked completely puzzled, but went back to talking to Nevil

"Yeah!" said Nevil. "They let my Mum out of the hospital. The doctors said she can return to a semi-normal life. But she looks like she has no mind. Most of her memory is gone. But she can walk and talk and feed herself now. She can even dress herself!" Hermione looked over at me and raised her eyebrows. 

"That's great Nevil" she said with the tone of voice reserved for the mental ill "I'm really happy for you. How's your dad?"

That was, obviously not the thing to say. Nevil bowed his head and began to pick at his cuticles. "He's still at the hospital. I really don't think there going to let him out soon."

"Sorry" we all chimed

We hung our heads and rode the rest of the way in quite

As the carriages stopped, I jumped out and waited for everyone to exit. Ron left the carriage last, undoubtedly hoping I would forget our little "conversation" and leave him alone. No such luck. As soon as Hermione and Nevil had walked a few steps ahead, I grabbed Ron by the collar and dragged him to the side of the path. 

"Now Ron, tell me what's up with you and Hermione?"

"I already told you! Nothing!" But I could have sworn I heard a "not yet" under his breath. Throwing up his hands he said "Can you just drop it? I don't need everyone to know that..."

"Hey Weasley!" shouted an all to familiar drawling voice. Ron for once, seemed happy to hear Malfoy. I was shocked. "Hey Weasley! I see you got yourself some new robes. Pity, I didn't think you family would stoop so low as to sell the house for some clothes. You could have had my old houselves if you wanted them... I'm sure they would be like a gown to you."

"Watch it Malfoy" Ron growled

"Oh, so there feeding you dog food now too? Cheaper, I suppose." I had all to do just to hold Ron of Malfoy. Lucky for him thought, He laughed and walked away.

"I'm not taking his crap again this year!"

"Ron," I said in a tentative voice, "You say that every year."

"Well, I'm Not!


	5. Passing of the Crowns

Ron and I walked up the stone path and into the school. It was hilarious to see McGonagal shuffling all of the first years into a side room. One of them, with long black hair, looked as if she had fainted and was being held up by her friends. In the corner, stood two boys and a girl. One boy was short and skinny, the other, tall and gangly. The girl seemed to be scolding them. I was strongly reminded on me, Ron and Hermione. It was almost spooky. 

As I ducked into the Great Hall, I saw Hermione waving me over. I sat down next to her and glanced up at the head table. Time for the ever-so-popular, first-day-of-school, new teacher spotting. With an agonizing groan, Ron noticed that, not only was Snape alive, but he was all in one piece. And, if possible, looking even more pissed off than usual. Glancing down the row, I could'nt see any new teachers that could teach Defense against the Dark arts. 

"Hermione, where's the teacher?" I asked

"See that girl down on the end? That's got to be her." I looked where Hermione was pointing, and promptly choked. When Hermione said girl, she meant it. That girl couldn't have been older that I was! There was no way she could be teaching us! But, you had to give her credit. She was undoubtedly trying to looked older, with her red hair pulled back into a tight bun to rival McGonagal's, and robes that were so heavily starched they looked like sheets of woven wood. She worn a look of somewhat amusement, staring up at the Ceiling as if she hadn't seen it in years. But that was impossible. 

"Hermione!" Ron laughed. "There's no way..........."

But the hall was silenced. Just as we spoke, McGonagal brought the sorting hat into the center of the room. It ripped open and began to sign. There was a smattering of applause when it had finished, and the first years looked beyond relieved. 

"When I call out your name, Promptly put on the hat!" yelled McGonagal "Arrons, Jessica!"

The girl that had fainted walked on unstable legs up to the hat, and put it on. It had barley touched her head before.. "HUFFELPUFF"

The yellow table burst into applause and cheered as Jessica walked over and promptly collapsed again. 

"Afertinni, Judas!" shouted McGonagal. In response, the hat shouted "SLITHERIAN".

"As if," Hermione whispered "You could be anything else with that name!" I of course, was completely puzzled, and went back to watching the sorting. The sorting went surprisingly fast, but we didn't get out first Gryffindor until "Jaquest, Marco!". All in all thought, It seemed we were in luck, with 6 new Gryffindor boys, and 4 girls. 

Dumbeldore stood up and cleared his throat. Not rudely, mind you, Just so the applause would die down and we would know he was there. 

"Welcome!" he said, above the subsiding hubbub. "Welcome to the start of a new year! I am pleased to inform you, Quidditch is back on." The great hall exploded. It was nearly a full minute before Dumbeldore quieted us with a few brightly colored sparks. "As almost every house needs a new captain, I will be announcing them now. First off, Ravenclaw will be lead by Cho Chang." My heart flip-flopped. Cho Beamed, but not at me. "Next off, Huffelpuff will be lead by Susan Bones!" The Huffelpuffs exploded. But no matter how hard I tried, I still saw Cedric grinning back from the table. 

_No_. I shook myself _He's not coming back. He's dead. Get on with you life_. But that was easier said than done. 

"Now," said Dumbeldore "For Slytherian. This years team will be lead by....Draco Malfoy." 

I swear to you no matter how hard the Slytherians cheered, it was all lost in the boos of three quarters of the hall. Ron was yelling his outrage. Fred and George looked as if they were going to jump up and strangle Malfoy. Malfoy looked around, mad enough to spit glass. With his background, I bet he could too. Even Hermione, who usually tried to be happy for people, booed. Actually, I think she booed louder than me. 

"And as for Gryffindor..." I heard Dumbeldore say "The new Captain will be........" 

AN: Oh, I'm nasty aren't I? Leaving it there. Anyway, Who is the new D.A.D.A. teacher? Who is the Gryffindor Captain? What's up with Ron?

If you wondering why Hermione said "If he could be anything else" to Judas Afertinni, it's because Judas was the one who betrayed Jesus to the Romans for a bag of gold. Just a cultural note. Please review, as it helps me become a better writer. 


	6. Of Teenage pigs and Psudo-Jiggs

AN: The Chapter are getting longer. Trust me, the last chapter is 35 pages long. Akk! 

Dedicated to: My brother, Manny. Why? He introduced me to Harry Potter right after P.O.A. came out, and I haven't been the same since. This one's for you, chap.

*****Recap: "And the Gryffindor Quidditch Capitan is..."********

**_Crash!_**

The Huffelpuff, Jessica AArons had fainted again. Right into her golden plate. But, to add insult to injury, her limp body slumped off her chair and onto the floor. The girl whom Hermione said was the teacher, quickly jumped (quite literally) over the staff table an sprinted the length of the room. She reached Jessica's side within seconds and bent down to check her pulse.

"She's ok Headmaster!" she shouted back to the staff table. "She's just nervous, and probably hungry." Her voice was rather loud, and somewhat deep. Not deep enough to sound masculine, just to give off an aura of power, and respect. She waved her wand over Jessica's face, and Jessica's eyes fluttered open. Upon seeing the entire student body looking at her, however, she blushed seven shades of crimson. 

"Headmaster?" asked the "professor" "Perhaps I should take her up to the hospital wing?"

"Nonsense, Victoria" yelled back Dumbeldore. "You need to be here. Perhaps a prefect?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air. I looked over at her. How could I have forgotten to ask if she was a prefect. _That's easy_, I answered to myself _because there's no chace Hermione wouldn't be!_

"Ah yes. Ms. Granger, would you see to it that Ms. Arrons makes it to the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbeldore."

Hermione got up and lead the Huffelpuff off threw the doors. Ron looked furious.

"Where was I? Oh yes." said Dumbeldore, looking only slightly upset "Quidditch. For Gryffindor this year, We" He swept his hand towards the Staff table. I groaned. Any vote that required Snape voting for me, meant that I had lost. "have chosen Mr. Weasley." No-one made a sound. "Oops! I meant Mr. George Weasley." The hall exploded. Even the rafters shook. I Jumped up and thumped George on the back. 

"You're not angry Harry?" whispered George. He was grinning like a mad cat, but his face fell just for a moment. 

"Me? No!" I was taken aback "There's always next year! This is it for you. Have fun! Just ...... no diagrams" I added as an afterthought, thinking of Wood's endless squiggling lines.

George grinned even wider.

"Ugh" Ron moaned as I sat down. "Just something else I have to live up too. They'll never let me forget this."

An idea struck me. Ok, So it was more like Lee Jordan throwing up his goblet in applause and _it _striking me, but same difference. "Ron, you know more about Quidditch than anyone here."

"Yeah so?" said Ron, put-out "What good is that doing me?"

"Lee is leaving this year"

"Yeah? I don't know where your going with this Harry...."

"You could be commentator! Like I said. You know more about Quidditch than anyone! You already go to all the games! And, we could always use a little biased commentating."

"I could try." said Ron, looking brighter. "That'll be something none of my brother's have done before."

"That's the spirit!" I said, whapping him on the back. "Now, what's up with you and Hermione?" 

"WILL YOU QUIT IT?!?" Ron shouted. I just sniggered into my hand. 

It was a few good minutes before the hall subsided. George was so happy, that he jumped on top of the table and started doing a very poor jig. Come to think of it, it was more of alot of bouncing up and down while Fred clapped of the _tune _of a jig, but it worked. Seamus looked scandalized. Once he finally jumped down again, Dumbeldore cleared his throat.

"Now" said the aged wizard "I would like to introduce you to your new Defense against the dark arts teacher, Ms. Victoria Rowbans."

The hall goggled. Hermione had been right. The "girl" really was our teacher. She stood up, bowed her head, and sat back down. Smattered applause broke out, out of respect. Although, she looked younger than the 7th years, so I'm not sure how much respect there really was. Draco looked astounded.

"Tell me" he drawled "Are you a werewolf? Possessed? Narcissistic? Is a monster growing out of your head? You can't be normal." For once, I almost laughed at Draco. He had a point. Besides looking like a 5th year, Rowbans looked _normal_. 

"No, I assure you, I'm all Human. Wouldn't go so far as to say normal, thought. What's the fun in that?" She chuckled. She gave Dumbeldore a smile, both with her mouth and eyes.

"Now, Ladies and Gentlemen, Tuck in" said the Headmaster. I didn't need telling twice, My food was gone before it even finished appearing onto the plate. Hermione sidled into her seat next to me. For a wild moment I thought of S.P.E.W., but apparently Hermione didn't. Chomping down on my Kidney pie, I remembered the pensive in my trunk............

__

" Really James, you could chew before you swallow." 

"Nonsense Moony" said my father "what's the fun in that?"

"You don't choke."

"You really are a stick in the mud Remus."

"Thank you. _I'm a _living _stick in the mud."_

James stood up and grabbed Lupin's arm.

"Come on. I think Sirius said he found the spell. He's upstairs with Peter."

"So that's where they are. Are you sure you really want to do this?"

"Yeah. And besides. Lily said she's found someone who's done this before."

"McGonagal?" Even in memories of memories, I could tell Lupin didn't like the idea of McGonagal helping.

__

"Nope. She said it's a 7th year." 


	7. Keys and Vaults long locked away

AN: Well, here I am. I brought my entire computer up to my weekend house to write more of this story and study for Regents exams (ugh). Mind you, I have a Compaq Presario, and it is NOT a laptop, which meant sitting with a keyboard and speaker on my lap for 2 hours. Damned traffic. Anyway, I didn't bring the mouse pad, because I'm stupid, so now my mouse is all messed up. I'm actually using Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban instead. I also didn't bring that thing for my wrists so my hands really hurts already, I'm going to have to get a pillow or something. Plus my computer is on the floor because there's isn't any computer desk here. I have to lug this whole thing home again on Monday too. Yuck. So anyway, here is it, the next happy-slappy installment of "Old Family Ties".

Of keys and vaults long locked away

The food was better than I remember it. Maybe because I had eaten little more than stale cake all summer, but I've never tasted anything half as good as this years' apple cinnamon pie. When dinner was done, I picked my now significantly heavier body up and started out of the Hall and onto the steps. Ron and Hermione caught up with me. So did Nevil. 

"Hey Guys! What's new this year? I didn't get to talk much in the carriages with you!" Nevil said, excitedly

"On three Ron" I whispered. "One, Two, Three!"

Ron and I bent over and picked up Nevil just as he was about to step into the disappearing step. The first years looked on tentatively. Many people laughed at poor Nevil. We didn't thought. As we approached the portrait, Hermione turned around.

"The Password is 'Puffskins'" said Hermione, in all her glory. I turned around. It was bluntly obvious who was muggel born. They looked on in wonderment as the portrait swung open to reveal the common room, a blazing fire already roaring in the grate. 

"Girls, this way, Boys, that way!" said Hermione, pointing towards the doors leading towards the bedrooms. I went my own way, Ron close in my wake. And I do mean wake. All of the pureblood first years stepped back and gasped when they saw me. They pointed at my scar too. I really hate that. It always makes me think I have a pimple or something. 

When I got into my room, I pulled my truck in front of the bed I had used for 4 years now. Dean started pinning up West Ham posters. 

"Really." said Ron, looking at the poster from under his eyebrows "Can't you put up a good team?"

"When you do" retorted Dean, pointing to the Chudly Cannons poster Ron had forgotten last year.

Ron glared and opened his trunk, throwing clothes into his wardrobe. I hung up a few of my robes, and pulled out my bedside cabinet things. My photo album, my invisibility cloak, the broomstick servicing kit, and the Pensive. I hurried it into the cabinet, and closed the door. I would use it later. Lastly, I pulled out my Fireboat. I re-arranged the tail twigs, and I heard applause, I spun around to see Dean, Ron, Seamus, and Nevil cheering at me. 

"All hail next years Captain!" shouted Seamus. I grinned.

***

Later that night, just as the others were falling asleep, I reached over to the cabinet and pulled out the pensive. I lowered my face to the glossy surface and took a deep breath. I felt the pull, and fell face forward.

This time, I landed into Greengots. I was standing beside my father and he was alone, something unusual. He was about 20, and he was wearing a fine black robe, with red piping. He opened up a vault with a tiny key. This wouldn't have struck me as odd, except the key was gold and covered in small jewels. My father was putting something into the vault. I couldn't see what It was, but it was square and in a simple- brown paper wrapped box. Before the scene changed, I saw heaps of gold, and bronze. No silver thought. So, my father must have shared this with Remus, and probably Sirius and Peter too. I had heard once that my father never used sickles because Lupin couldn't used them. I watched as the scene blurred and changed. It was my Father again, and he was... sewing? It looked like it was putting something into a fold in a cloak, _the invisibility cloak_? Its fold was them covered up by another piece of invisibly material, down by them bottom. And I swear, before the seen blurred, my father smiled at me. 

Returning back, I didn't even stop to catch my breath. I reached over, and grabbed the cloak. I searched for a seam out of place. There at the bottom, was something that looked like it had been sewn by someone who didn't even know how to thread a needle. I ripped open the fold, and out fell.... a key.


	8. Solving Problems

Recap******I ripped open the fold, and out fell... a key. *******  
  
Solving Problems

Dedicated to:My beta-reader, Devita10. World's fastest beta.

  
My father's vault key, with a brightly sparkling head. I turned it over in my hand, taking in its staggering weight. Although it was so small, it had to weight 2 or 3 pounds. On the side, in a miniscule engraving, was a number. 623. I could only assume this was a vault number, since there was nothing else it could have been. I decided then and there to see what was in my father's vault. But getting to London would be a problem. That was over a day's flight by broomstick, so even if I could sneak out of school I couldn't get there.   
  
And then it struck me. Floo powder. It was safe, legal, and damned fast. But I didn't have any. I never had use for it while I was at school. And I doubted if any of my friends did. I would have to find some, and get to London. And quickly.  
  
***  
  
The next day I awoke startled. It was a few moments before I was able to figured out where I was. Then everything came rushing back to me. The sorting, the new teacher, the pensieve, and... the key. I still had no idea where I was going to get floo powder. The only person I knew that had any was Dumbledore. He kept some on his mantel. And Snape probably had some too, but I doubted he would help me. Wait a minute! I mentally smacked myself. Hogsmeade would be sure to have some. It was only a 30 minute walk if I used the tunnel under the one-eyed-witch. And I could go today. It was, mercifully, Saturday. This left me the entire day to get to Hogsmeade.   
  
"Ron!" I hissed. He was sleeping late, and I had to get out of bed and shake him till he woke up.  
  
"Wha? Where's the cannon?" he said groggily.  
  
"First off, never say that again! Secondly, I have to go get something. I'll be back by lunch. Tell Hermione."  
  
"Right," yawned Ron. "Tell Hermione never to ask for a cannon, and go get something."  
  
"No!" I half hissed, half whispered. "Forget the cannon. Tell Hermione I'll be back at lunch."  
  
"Muhumm..." moaned Ron, once again drifting off to sleep.  
  
I looked at my alarm clock. 7:30 in the morning. I could get to Hogsmeade by 8:30, just when the shops started opening. Then I could easily get back by 10:00 or 10:30. The Great Hall would still be serving breakfast. Nobody would even miss me.  
  
I crept over to my cabinet, careful not to step on the squeaky board by my slippers. I reached in and pulled out my invisibility cloak and my money bag. Looking inside I found a few galleons and sickles. I had more than enough. I threw the cloak around my shoulder, and thought how great it would be if Moody had given me back my map. I'd figure out how to get it.   
I crept down the dormitory steps and into the common room. Hermione, of course, was already up, doing--what else?--reading. Would she ever learn? Scratch that, would she ever _not _learn? I opened the portrait just a crack, careful to make sure Hermione didn't see. If she saw the portrait open of its own accord, she would know it was me. And then I would have to tell her everything, and she would tell me to go tell Dumbeldore. But I wanted to be the one to figure this out. And on my own for once.   
  
I managed my feat with little trouble. I skirted students in the corridors and watched out for cats. I swear, that cloak doesn't work on animals. I found the witch without much trouble, and tapped her hump. _"Dissendium,_" I whispered. I hoisted myself up, and I was in. Sliding down the ramp, I lit my wand. I was off. Just one step closer to finding out who I was.   
  
AN: No, this does not count as a real chapter, at least not in my mind. It's just one of those stupid transitional things you have to throw in so people understand. Get it? Good. I figured out my dry sense of humor has been trying to snake its way into this story. I think I'm just gonna let it go, and make Ron or Rowbans have my dry humor. What do you think? Ron is more sarcastic/sardonic in my mind so I'm not sure how it would fit. I might go with Rowbans. Two points and a detection to the first person to figure out where I got that name. :)   
  
~Hermonie, known in real life as Jo~  
  



	9. Door to the past

AN: Hey guys! I bought a ton of books this weekend, including Bram Stoker's Dracula  
in which I am currently engrossed. I recommend it for anyone over 13, as it is rather dark.   
And long.  
  
  
Chapter 8  
Door to the Past  
  
My feet made sickening slop slop sounds as I ran along the corridor. I wished I had a watch. Just as I decided to turn around and go back, I saw the steps looming before me. I started up.   
  
One, two, three, four... I soon lost count. Then my head hit the trapdoor above me.   


Success! I pushed it open and peeked out, still under the cloak. Nobody  
around. I hoisted my body out and landed like a cat.   
  
Pulling the trapdoor back into place, I straightened my back and looked around for the steps. I found them and started to climb. Then I heard it, a voice from upstairs.   
  
"While you're there, get some more Fizzing Whizbees. I hear Hogwarts started yesterday, That means somebody will sneak over here..."  
  
  
"How right you are, Madam," I thought. I slipped into the store and out onto the street unnoticed. Now to find a shop that sold Floo powder, I thought, pulling off the cloak. Zonko's and Honeydukes certainly didn't sell any, and the Three Broomsticks wouldn't either. Those were most of the stores that I had ever been into. So I started walking down the street until I came to a small store with dusty sign above the door.   
  
It read "Tarulli's:Makers of Fine Transporters since 1492". Just what I needed. I pushed the door in and took a step over the threshold.  
  
A small bell tinkled someplace overhead. I looked around. In the murky light, I could just make out rows and rows of bottles, boxes and papers. Dust clung everywhere, even to thin air. It smelled like an attic, long locked away. There was a door covered in velvet in the back.From within, a short and dumpy witch waddled over to me.  
  
"Hello," she said in a hoarse voice, folding her hands. "What may I do for you?" Her voice sent chills down my spine.  
  
"Umm, I need floo powder."  
  
"Ahhh. What model?" I was taken aback. I didn't have a clue what model I needed. I didn't have a clue there were different models. My face must have shown it. "Never mind," she said with a chuckle. "Where do you want to go?"  
  
"Diagon Alley." I was relieved to be asked a question I knew the answer to.  
  
"Here," she said, handing me a small velvet pouch from a shelf. "4 sickles. Be careful though, it's strong. Just a pinch will do." I handed her the silver and walked out of the shop.   
  
Once back outside, I squinted in the sunlight. Then an idea struck me. There was no apparating on Hogwarts grounds. What if you couldn't use Floo powder there either? I looked at the clock over the town square. 8:35. I marched over to the post office and pushed my way inside. I paid to use a tiny scopes owl for the day. I sat down at a rickety desk, and scribbled a note.   
  
Hermione and Ron-  
Gone to Gringotts. Used Floo. Be back by dinner. Don't worry.   
Harry  
  
I tied the letter to the owl's leg, and threw it out the window. Now all I needed was a fire. I walked over to the register and stood on tiptoe.  


"May I help you?" said the lazy voice of the clerk.  
  
"Um, yes," I replied. "Do you have a fire I could use?" The man pointed to the side of the room, where a grate stood with dying flames. He held out his wand and the fire soared back to life. Then he held out his hand to me, clearing his throat loudly.  
  
"Thank you?" I ventured. The man shook his head. I understood him this time and places a few knuts in his outstretched hand. Walking over to the fire, I opened the tiny bag and threw out just a pinch. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and shouted,   
  
"Diagon Alley!"   
  
I began to spin around. Faster and faster and FASTER until I thought I was going to be sick. And then... it stopped. I fell face forward onto a hard wood floor. There was a spot a few inches from my nose that smelled suspiciously like liquor. I bent back onto my knees and my worst fear was confirmed. I had landed in the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
Normally, this wouldn't have fazed me. Except you needed to use magic to get to Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron. You need to tap the brick. I couldn't do magic out of school. Maybe Tom would help me.   
  
I stood up and looked around. There was Tom, sitting behind the desk with his head in his arms. I didn't want to wake him up, but...  
  
I tiptoed over to Tom and hissed in his direction. "Tom... Tom, wake up. I need some help."  
  
Tom shook off sleep and looked up. "Mr. Potter, sir. How may I help you?" He smiled a toothless smile.  
  
"I need to get into Diagon Alley," I muttered.  
  
"Surely,sir," he said. He hopped off his stool and walked out the back door. I followed him close behind. He reached the wall and tapped the brick above the trash can. The  
gateway opened and I thanked Tom as I ran inside.   
  
There were few people in Diagon Alley, probably because school had just started.   
Jogging down the street, I tried to find Gringotts. There it was at the end of the street.   
Its marble exterior shone like new sickles, and the goblin outside was as neatly pressed as  
ever. I reached him and nodded a hello. Once inside the two sets of doors, I  
walked over to the goblin behind the desk.   
  
Handing him the key, I asked, "May someone show me to vault 623?"  
  
"Griphook!" yelled the goblin. "Take him..." he waved in my direction "...to vault 623."   
Griphook nodded and pointed to the infamous small carts. I threw myself inside and  
watched as Griphook did the same. The cart began to move down the tracks. Faster and Faster and FASTER! It was almost as bad as Floo Powder. I swear I saw a dragon; I  
think it was a Horntail, but I'm not sure. After a few tense minutes the cart stopped  


HTML1DocumentEncodingutf-8outside a row of doors. Griphook pointed one out to me and waited in the cart. Walking  
over, I took a deep breath and pulled the key back out of my pocket. I reached towards  
the door, inserted the key in the lock, and turned it slowly. The door swung open, and the dust of ages cleared.   
  
Craning my head for a better look, I spotted something in the corner behind a mound of  
knuts. Pushing them aside, I saw the box my father had in the pensieve, and something  
else. Realizing what it was, I gave out an involuntary shout and stared. It was a fire. Small and burning in a tiny glass jar. But how could this be? With all the dust that came out of the box, I doubted that anybody had opened it since my parents died. But there it was, soft and glowing. I tapped the jar with my finger. Cold as ice. Picking up the jar, I made to turn it upside down, looking for a label or note, but when it shook it gave off a small pop. The fire disappeared and in its place was a scroll. Throwing caution to the wind, I unscrewed the lid and reached inside. It wasn't a scroll, but a picture. In it were my father, Sirius, Remus, and Peter (I swore loudly and...creatively). Now this wouldn't disturb me, except they were in animal form. Which meant someone had to  
know about them. But why wasn't Lupin eating the photographer? He would have had to turn into an animal, and work the camera from there. I could tell you one thing though. From what Sirius had told me, my mother never was an animagus, which excluded her. So someone did know about them. Sirius had never told me though. I would have to talk to him.  
  
I grabbed the package I came for, and jumped back into the cart. I must have sat staring at the picture, because I don't remember the ride back. Nor do I remember the trip back to the Leaky Cauldron. I do remember the Floo powder though, as I held on tightly to the package and the picture. Once back inside the post office, I rushed to Honeydukes, throwing the cloak back on. I crept around Fred and George, who by the looks of it were trying to sell Canary Creams to the landlord. I snuck back into the tunnel and before I knew where my legs were taking me, I found myself outside the witch, face to face with Ron and Hermione. And neither of them looked happy to see me.  
  
  



	10. Breakups, boxes, and a flaming Snape

Disclaimer: You know the drill

an: Thanks again to my beta- Davita10. And yes, Demiguises are in F.B.&W.F.T. Page 9

Good Luck on Finals/ Regents everyone!!!

__

Chapter 9

__

Breakups, boxes, and a flaming Snape

I was promptly dragged up to Gryffindor tower by my underarms and thrown into an armchair, which was, unfortunately, one of the flatter ones. Never in my life could I have guessed Hermione could throw that hard. Mental note... never test Hermione again.

"WHERE WERE YOU?!?" she screamed in my face. The entire common room turned to look at her, but I doubt she even noticed. Ron, however, went red.

"Hermione! Shh!" I hissed. "I'm fine, I just needed to get a box."

"A box?" Hermione looked cautious. "From where? The states?"

"Didn't you get my owl? Gringotts." 

Ron turned redder. "You didn't get the owl, Ron?" I asked him.

"Well..." He kicked an imaginary pile of dirt around with his overgrown shoes. "Hermione was already fuming so..."

"Ron!" I yelled, now attracting stares myself, "that was meant to calm her down!" Ron looked ready to explode.

"Fine! If you don't want my help, then don't take it!" He left the common room. I groaned. Not this again.

Hermione didn't look finished with me yet, however. "What _is _in that box anyway, Harry?" she asked, cooling down just a bit.

"I would know," I retorted, "if a certain someone would just let me open it!"

"Open it then," she said, resuming her usual know-it-all look.

I pulled at the old and yellowed yarn binding the package. The brown paper fell off the box with little assistance, revealing a shoe box. Blowing the dust off, I saw "Zonko's levitating shoes... levitate and scare you parents!" stamped across the front. I could only imagine what these things had seen. Picking off the lid, I expected to see shoes. But apparently the box was being used for something else. Reaching inside, my hand found a red leather book. Not some book lurking on the shelves of Flourish and Blotts, but a diary. Using past experiences as a guide, my hand had moved halfway to the fire before Hermione stopped me.

"Harry! Look at the name!"

I looked down and saw "James Potter" printed in the corner in tiny gold foil letters. I gasped. To think I had almost burned it. I could hear Hermione saying something to me... but at the same time it only sounded like meaningless noise. I had gotten to my feet, and they were taking me and my body up to the dormitory. My mind was lost, swimming in clouds and fog. _My father had written this book. _I slammed the dormitory door behind me and sat down on my bed. I had a lot of reading to do. 

I pulled the curtains around me and lit my wand. I opened the book to the first page and chuckled. On the "This book belongs to . . ." page, a crude picture of Snape with his head on fire had been sketched. The tiny signature on the bottom had "Prongs" swirling around in circles_._

Turning the page I saw the date... December 18. Year 5. I grinned. Again, there was a doodle at the top, this time of a boy giving off a small "pop" and turning into a deer. So he had started this diary on the day they figured out the spell... I flipped the pages. Page after page was filled with plots for full moons, and recollections of them. This was priceless. But I knew two other people who deserved this... I waved my wand and whispered a duplication spell. I summoned Hedwig, and sent her off to my father's best friends. I then turned my head back to the page.

Dear nameless bit of muggle paper,

Well, we finally did it. My friends and I finally managed to complete the Animagus spell. It took two bloody years to find the damned thing. Luckily Sirius (being the woman-loving manic he is) just so happened to know a 7th year. Apparently she took instructions from McGonagall about becoming an Animagus. She agreed to teach us, if we told her why. So Remus told her! You'll never guess what happened then... She was so startled, she turned into a Demiguise and back again in seconds. Nasty side affect of Animagism. I didn't know you could turn into magical animals too. Anyway, she's going to help Peter out, as he can't seem to get this right. I can turn into a stag though, and Sirius is a dog. It actually looks like a Grim. Sirius Black, the Black dog. He'll never live that one down. I'm going to have to leave it at this for now, since Binns is floating over, and I don't what anyone to find out!

Well, that solved some problems. I had read about Demiguises in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. They were these odd-looking ape things, with hair that could be cut off and turned into an invisibility cloak. That's probably where my dad got the cloak too. But I still didn't have a name...

I must have stayed up reading later then I thought, because I don't remember going to sleep. Just Ron shaking me by the shoulders to wake me up, saying, "Good. You're still here," and leaving. Why did he have to shake me like that? Luckily, it was Sunday, and I hadn't missed any classes. I pulled myself out of bed, and stumbled over to my wardrobe. I pulled out an everyday black school robe and pulled it over my head. Looking in the mirror, I saw my eyes were all red and puffy. Had I cried last night? 

I pulled my hat on and tried to tuck some unruly hair under it. I grabbed my father's diary from the bedside cabinet and shoved it into my emptybook bag. I would read it later. 

I trudged down to breakfast and flopped beside Hermione, who was doing–what else?–reading. I swallowed a scone as fast as I could and told Hermione I'd be back later. I hurried to the library, found a table in the invisibility section, and began to read from the diary again. 

December 25, Year 5

Nameless bit of paper,

First full moon transformation for all of us. After Remus was lead away, Sirius and I crept to the shack. Torry came with us. Once inside the forest, we transformed and crept into the tree. Peter stayed behind. He can't get the spell right yet. He was really sour about it too. Anyway, we found Remus and I screamed. As well as a deer can anyway. He was biting everything in the shack to bits. He turned and snarled at us, but then gave out a yelp and sat still. We stayed the whole night with him like that. Turns out we could use some odd sort of telekinesis to communicate. Thank God for that. Anyway, we didn't do much, since Remus still had to get used to having us around. We scampered back the castle before sunrise and Madam Pomfrey arrived. We had so much to talk about now. The world was open to us.

See you next moon!

James (who has been dubbed Prongs after I jabbed Torry in the leg...oops.)

"Torry?" I whispered to the silence.


	11. Make ups, Meetings and Shakespeare

__

Chapter 10

Make ups, Meetings and Shakespeare

************************** 

Meanwhile:

In one of the many unused classrooms, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sirius, Remus, Rowbans, and Snape had gathered.

"I say we just gather our allies and blow the little shit apart," spat Snape.

"Words before blows. Is it so?" asked Remus quite calmly, grinning a bit.

"Not that we love words better, as you do," retorted Snape.

"Good words are better than bad strokes," shot Sirius, not missing a beat. Remus grinned at him.

McGonagall sighed, but despite herself, seemed to be enjoying this mini theatrical production. 

"In your bad strokes, you give good words; witness the hole you made in Caesar's heart, crying 'Long Live! Hail, Caesar!'" This was obviously not time to mention James's death, as both Remus and Sirius threw themselves at Snape, who was only protected when Dumbledore levitated him a few feet into the air. Remus and Sirius's heads collided, and rubbing them, the two sat back down. 

"As happy I am to see you all have read muggle literature, I felt this was not the time, Severus, to bring that up. Please sit down." Although his voice held no trace of a threat or anger, Snape quivered under Dumbledore's gaze. "Now, back to what we came here to discuss. Voldemort . . . " there was a collective shiver around the room ". . . is gaining more power day by day. We need to establish our allies, and form a plan. Any ideas?" 

"I have one," said Rowbans, raising her hand.

**************

I sat in the library reading that little book for hours. Before I realized what happened, Madam Pince was turning out the lights and shooing me off to the tower. I put a magical bookmark on the page and shoved it in my bag. Hurrying out of the library, I ran to Gryffindor Tower, and spotted Ron and Hermione in the common room. They were the only ones there also. 

"Look, sorry about what I said before . . . I was just, I dunno..." muttered Ron.

"Forget it. You were just panicking," I said, embracing him in a man-hug. "And," I added in a whisper, "you were standing next to Hermione . . . "

Ron punched me in the arm and laughed. I laughed right along with him, happy to be talking to him again. 

After the random muttering from Hermione about "boys, so stupid..." I sat them down and started telling them about the contents of the diary. I left out certain parts, like about my Dad swooning over Mum, because let's face it, _I_ didn't want to hear some of the stuff he wrote!

They were, as usual, a very good audience, laughing at all the right places. Ron was convinced we should magically magnify the picture of flaming-Snape (or, as he now calls him, "Propane Head") over the great hall tomorrow, but Hermione said absolutely not. I was glad to be on good terms with them again.

*************

"Yes Victoria?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, Voldemort . . ." again, more shivering ". . . has Harry's blood, true?"

"Where are you going with this one now, midget?" snorted Snape.

"Respect your elders. Think about it. Emeralds," said Rowbans, her eyes gleaming sky-blue

"You know, that just might work." Dumbledore summoned a quill and parchment, and began to scribble a plan. 

***********************

An: Ahhhhh, the works of Shakespeare. From "Words before blows" until "Hail Caesar!" is a quote from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. Make more sense now? O.K. quick translation . . .

"Think, then act." 

"You talk too much." 

"Actions speak louder than words."

"You, in your action, killed your best friend, screaming, 'I'm innocent, hail James Potter!'"

And as for the "Respect your elders" that serves as the basis for most of Rowbans's character, go ponder that one. And no, it has nothing to do with Polyjuice, glamours, or aging potions. Stumped? Oh good.


	12. Showering Hermione, W.E.T.M.A. and Rowba...

An: Ahhhh, I received a review a few days ago saying that the person had figured out the title. Trust me, no matter how perceptive you are, there is no way you could have figured out the entire title. I hope.  
  
  
The mind itself is a funny place.   
It can make a heaven out of hell . . .  
Or a hell out of heaven.  
~Paradise Lost~  
  
Chapter 11  
Showering Hermione, W.E.T.M.A., and Rowbans  
  
  
Unbeknownst to me, the group of conspirators was upstairs plotting about  
slitting my wrists. In a rather literal way. But more on that later.  
  
"Right," said Hermione, pulling out a roll of parchment, an ink bottle, and a . . .  
  
"Hermione!" gasped Ron, surprised. "Is that a . . . a sugar quill?" Hermione blushed a bit, put the offending quill in her bag, and pulled out a regular quill.  
  
"Now," she said, looking very business-like, "we need to know what we know." I was lost, again. But I started laughing as I saw what Hermione had written at the top of the page this morning.  
  
W.E.T.M.A.  
Wizards for the Equal Treatment of Muggle Artifacts  
  
Step 1. Call "Mandy."  
Step 2. Set up "METMA" at Hogwarts.  
Step 3. Create "WETMA" Branch.  
Step 4. Convert S.P.E.W. badges to WETMA.  
Step 5. Badger Harry and Ron into WETMA.  
  
"Not again," Ron moaned. "Please Hermione, not this year."  
  
"We'll talk about this later, Ron," she said. I was still laughing. "Now, what do we know? There was a girl, Torry, who went to Hogwarts. She was a 7th year when your dad was a fifth. Right Harry?"  
  
"Yeah. And I think she was the Demiguise. Which is probably where my dad got the cloak. And she was the one who taught them the spell."  
  
"Right. Do we know anything else? At all?"  


"My dad said she had really long red hair once, I think. Or maybe that was Sirius."   


"Sirius has black hair, Harry," muttered Ron.  
  
"Apparently it was green for a while. Then pink, yellow, red, blue, purple, and gold, just never green."  
  
Hermione snorted. "A wonder it hasn't fallen out yet," she said, returning to the parchment where ink still glistened. "Look, tomorrow I'll go to the library and check the school records. They will show this girl's last name. Then we could access books about her year, and see what happens from there. Study that book, Harry. I think there might be more to the lines than meets the eye."  
  
"Right," I said, giving a half nod.   
  
The three of us snapped into action, as if a whistle had been sounded. Hermione packed away her parchment, and Ron and I hurried off to the dormitories.  
  
"Ron," I said later that night as I pulled on my pajama top, "can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Bash on," he replied. 

  
"Well, ok. What's up with you and . . ."  
  
"Here we go again. Look, I'll tell you if you don't laugh.  
  
"Um, alright," I said, brushing my fringe out of my eyes.  
  
"Hermione stayed over my house this summer, just for a week. To go to buy books and stuff."  
  
"And?" I asked, suddenly interested.  
  
"I sort of walked in on her while she was in the shower." I said I wouldn't laugh, so I didn't. I burst out in hysterics. A good five minutes later, Ron managed to calm me down.   
  
"Good God. Didn't you mother teach you to knock? What a bampot!" Ron didn't look happy about it at all.   
  
"I had no idea she could slap that hard," Ron said, with a tiny grin.   
  
I had never had a reason to laugh myself to sleep. Before that night, that is. The mental image that kept rolling through my mind . . . priceless.  
  
****  
  
The next morning schedules were handed out. I cheered. This year not only was Defense Against the Dark Arts first, but we also had Potions with Hufflepuffs. The year was looking up already.  
  
After the quickest breakfast of scones in the modern-day records, Ron, Hermione and I ran up to the classroom. When we got there, most of the class had seated themselves already. The clock hit 9 and Rowbans walked in. And I gasped.  
  


An2: The plot thickens. :) Anyway, The chapters are going to get longer, but longer in between too. Get it? I'm working at a camp, which means that I'm goignt to have problems with time. I'll try tho. Maybe one chapter every week or so. Sorry! Special thanks to Davita10, Ginny :) and Lily Potter. They all know why.


	13. Return of Desire

  
  
Don't wait for the sun,   
  
'cause it can turn black any day now.  
  
I lost my head in the clouds,  
  
when will this haze go away?  
  
~American Hi-Fi~  
  
Chapter 13  
  
Tears for the Past Unknown  
  
Hermione did too. The rest of the class, however, seemed oblivious to what we saw.   
  
"Hermione!" I whispered in her ear, "do you see?"  
  
"Yes," she hissed back. "White hair on her robes. It looks like . . ."  
  
"Demiguise hair," we said at the same time.  
  
It was, to the knowing eye, unmistakable. The silver-white hairs caught the light and seemed to fade in and out of sight ever so slightly. Hermione pulled out the scroll she had shown me last night, the one with W.E.T.M.A. plans on top, and then all the information we needed to look into. In her neat handwritten, she quickly scribbled   
  
Professor Victoria Rowbans-  
  
Demiguise hair on robes  
  
Connection?  
  
I turned my attention back to the class, just as Rowbans reached her desk and began to speak.  
  
"Hello," she said in her distinct voice. "My name is Professor Rowbans." Malfoy snorted, but Rowbans continued on as if she hadn't heard. "I have heard that this position is jinxed and I shouldn't unpack too quickly. Well, I would just like to tell whatever demon of hell is controlling this to bring it on." I think my eyes bugged out of my head. Apparently so had most of the class's. Ron had resorted to making a few indistinct spluttering noises.  
  
"Anyone who does not want to be here, well, that's fine by me. I will simply send you to the library and give you a near failing grade for the year. But God help you on the O.W.L.s . . . ."   
  
Crabbe and Goyle seemed to contemplate what she had said.   
  
Rowbans pointed her wand, and a piece of chalk began to scribble across the blackboard behind her. She then turned back to us. "Now, to answer your next question, yes, I am as young as I look. But I have already completed school, and Dumbledore sees it fit that I teach you." Draco had raised his hand.   
  
"Ah, yes Mr. ahhh . . ." Rowbans glanced at her roster, was completely lost, and turned to look at Malfoy. "You there, the one who looks like a Nancy boy." Ron had to literally shove his entire fist into his mouth to keep from laughing. Draco glowered.  
  
"Where did you, ah, get your education . . . Professor?" Draco drawled the last word as if it was poisonous. Malfoy had been acting cockier than ever since Voldemort was reborn, and he seemed to have developed an extraordinarily large bug up his ass.  
  
"At school," replied Rowbans, not fazed  
  
"And which one would that be?" Malfoy asked. Crabbe sniggered behind him.  
  
"The one that I went to," said Rowbans, with no hint of emotion in her voice. She turned back to the chalk, waved her wand for it to stop, and surveyed her work.   
  
"Ah," she sighed. "As you see, this year Dumbledore has instructed me to teach you about possessions. Not the kind that you own, the kind that take over you," she added, seeing a few startled faces. "Now, does anyone know the three most common types of possessions?"  
  
Hermione's hand, as usual, shot into the air.   
  
"Yes, umm . . ." Rowbans tried to find her name on the seating chart.  
  
"Granger, Hermione Granger. The answer is Animal, Spiritual and Magical." She once again sounded as if she had eaten the entire textbook. Ron moaned.   
  
"Right. Well, why didn't anyone copy that down?" asked Rowbans. There was a hurried scramble to pick up quills and parchment.   
  
"Now, " said Rowbans, starting to walk up and down the rows of desks, "Animal possessions are rare, but are self induced. You probably know them as Animagi. Since that is McGonagall's area, I'll leave that to her. Just know that they are self induced, and very few witches and wizards are capable of bringing them about. In my studies, I have only met four Animagi, and I've looked for a long time. Werewolves and vampires are also included in this category, as they can turn into animals . . . ."  
  
***  
  
"Harry!" Ron said, as soon as we were out of earshot of the classroom, "I just learned more in one day than in almost four years put together!"  
  
"Very true," I replied. We were making our way back down to the Great Hall for lunch after Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was true; Rowbans was a fast talker, almost too fast. It was hard to copy down everything she said and still be able to read your handwriting later. And she seemed to know side notes about everything. It was amazing that a 15 year old could know that much. It would have taken me lifetimes to learn it all on my own.  
  
"What does this tell you, Ron?" Hermione asked. Ron was lost. He screwed up his face, trying to think.  
  
"Umm, I should owl home for a Quick-Quotes Quill?" I gave an involuntary shudder. Rita.   
  
Hermione sighed and pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. The voices of hundreds of students broke through. "No Ron. It means that you can't sleep in class like you do in History of Magic!"  
  
"Hey!" shouted Ron, scandalized. "You sleep too!" Hermione seemed not to be listening anymore.   
  
"Speaking of which," I said, "we have History of Magic right after lunch."  
  
*****   
  
That night I was unusually hungry. So, apparently, was Ron. I decided to throw on the cloak and get some food from the kitchens. Halfway down, I noticed a door partly open, and sobs were coming from within. Curiosity got the better of me and I slid inside, still invisible. What I saw shocked me.  
  
It was the Mirror of Erised. Kneeling before it was Rowbans, sobbing. She was tracing the outline of people only she could see into the glass with her fingers. I crept to the side of the room, careful to avoid the glare of the mirror. I really didn't need to see my family right now. When I had crouched behind the glass, I turned to look at my professor.   
  
"Haven't you been taught manners, Potter?" she said, right at me. I was shocked. I twitched the cloak, but I was still covered. "I'm a damsel in distress. Now give me you handkerchief and go away." Numbly, I reached inside my pocket and pulled out my handkerchief. She took it and I walked over to the door. Taking one look back, I saw her blow her nose, and start tracing on the glass again.   


  
AN: Well, perceptive people have probably figured out a key plot element. But can you figure out the ages? *insane cackling* Also, I'm going to Disney World (for the 16th time) and I'll be gone for a week. So no new stories or chapters. Sorry folks. But you can still send me a review *hint hint hint*. Thanks again to my brother-with-the-arm-in-the-cast, Davita10, Ginny :), Ravenlady and a bunch of others. Love Ya alls!   
  
Ginny :) - Making sure I type this right!!!!! I swear, IT WAS A MISTAKE!!! LoL.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	14. Brujatodo

Disclaimer: Rowbans is MINE but everything else is J.K.Rowlings. The plane I'm writing this in is JetBlue's. 

__

Tis not the mt. we councore

It is ourselves

~Sir Edmound Hilliary~

First man to climb Mt. Everest and live

Chapter 14

Brujatodos

I don't remember the walk back to Gryffindor tower. I was still stunned at what I had just seen. My professor was bawling in front of a mirror, and she had seen into my cloak. That has shaken me most of all. There was defiantly something up with this woman. Or girl... whatever she was. 

I do, however, remember Ron throwing up his hands in discust when he saw I didn't have any food for him. He stormed back up to the dorm, paisley pajamas and all. Oh well, we would be back together by morning. I walked over to the table Ron, Hermione and I had taken a claim to in our first year, and Pulled over the W.E.T.M.A. scroll and a quill. In my scrawl, I wrote

Rowbans

Mirror of Erised

Crying

Tracing people into glass

_saw through cloak_

I quickly perform a drying charm on the parchment, and rolled it back up. I put the roll back in its usual spot, and headed off to bed.

Once in the dorm, I pulled my fathers diary out, and started looking at all the pictures he had drawn in. I fell asleep, somewhere around the one of his closest friends. Little did I know then, that was the one picture I should have seen.

The next morning, Hermione came to me with interesting news. During charms she passed me a small note.

Harry- 

There was only one girl who could

have been named Torry that year.

__

Victoria Rowbans

I folded up the note and turned to Hermione.

"Are you sure?" I whispered

"Positive" she said nodding. I ran my hands threw my hair. Rowbans wasn't sure a popular name, but could it be my teacher? Could she have known my father? And how could she be so young?

After charms we skipped lunch and went straight to the common room and our table. Hermione pulled over the parchment and spread it out. Grabbing a quill and ink bottle from her bag, she assumed the roll as dictator.

"Ok, so what do we know about Rowbans?" she asked us.

"She's 15" muttered Ron. Hermione scribbled _looks 15 _on the parchment.

"She's a Demiguise" I said. Hermione scribbled this too.

"And" added Hermione, "She's finished school and Dumbeldore trusts her."

"Hermione," muttered Ron "Dumbeldore trusts everyone. He'd trust a worm if it asked." Hermione chose to ignore this. She drew a fat, thick line across the page and wrote "Torry" under it.

"What do we know about her?" She asked

"She's a demiguise, she finished school, she knew my parents and her name is Victoria Rowbans."

Ron snorted "Well," he said sarcastically "I don't see _any _connections."

"So..." I muttered. "There the same person? But the ages. How could it be?" Hermione looked perplexed. After opening her mouth a few times, she pulled out a fat book entitled "Complex Charms and abnormalities."

"We look it up." she said "I doubt it's poly juice potion, as she drinks from a glass like everyone else. It could be a glamour, but they wear off too quickly. There is the possibility that she's immortal, but she would look much older by now." Ron grabbed the book and flipped to the index. Running his finger up and down the rows, he stopped next to the word "immortality: pages 4, 17, 976-978 and 1028".

"Might as well try the long one first, knock it out of the way, eh?" he said_, _flipping to page 976. It was a chapter on "Brujatodo". Seeing promise, we bent over and Hermione began to read aloud.

_The Brujatodo are a small clan of Spanish witches. During the Black Plague, when witches were beheaded for causing the illness, A group of a dozen or so witches tried to create an immortality potion. But, most modern alchemists will till you this is impossible without a sorcerer's stone. The potion went wrong, and caused the Witches to become slaves to reincarnation. When each witch died, they discovered they were re-incarnated again, with there memories and skills intact. Each cycle can be broken, and most Brujatodo have now done so. Maria Mendez, leader of the groups, discovered the atomic make-up of emeralds is powerful enough to break the cycle, but not kill the Brujatodo. Today, it is rumored for only 4 of the original members to still be intact with there powers...... _

The three of us looked at each other with chesser-cat grins.

"Bin-go" said Ron


End file.
